


Vulnerable

by Finely Honed (jaqen_hgar)



Series: дезинформация [9]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Tony Stark, Bucky Barnes Feels, Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Iron Man 3 Compliant, Porn with Feelings, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tony Attempts to Meet His Serious Conversation Quota, Tony Stark & Bucky's Arm, Tony Stark Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2014-08-23
Packaged: 2018-02-14 10:17:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2188008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaqen_hgar/pseuds/Finely%20Honed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony gasped, holding on with an unexpected amount of desperation, because for the life of him he just couldn’t get a handle on this, couldn’t get his bearings at all, and he was Tony <em>goddamned</em> Stark—this didn’t happen to him!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> In case the tags didn't make it obvious, we've entered the land of total, total smut in this one, so if you're more about the feelings and less about the _get down_ , you might want to skim over some parts. *cough*

Tony gasped, holding on with an unexpected amount of desperation, because for the life of him he just couldn’t get a handle on this, couldn’t get his bearings at all, and he was Tony _goddamned_ Stark—this didn’t happen to him! 

Technically, it was the polar opposite of one of his panic attacks, completely and utterly, but it was the same sort of overwhelming, and unexpected, his heart racing for entirely different reasons. Really, he shouldn’t be complaining, because _damn did that feel good_ , but still, it was all just _so much_ , and…

“Hey,” and it made him feel at least a _little_ better to hear how completely wrecked James sounded, his voice raw, and low, the word coming out in a hot puff against Tony’s neck. James shifted, his mouth sliding up along Tony’s jaw, a sort of sucking, stuttering movement over his chin, and then Tony just had to whimper, because how could he _not_ , as James rocked forward, slotting their mouths together for a quick kiss, his stupid, beautiful eyes just _right there_ , watching, waiting patiently for permission.

“Hey yourself,” Tony answered, hating how vulnerable he sounded, why was he sounding _vulnerable_ of all things?

The problem was, James wouldn’t stop with the eye fucking, which was messing with Tony’s head a bit, if he was being honest. It shouldn’t, and he knew it shouldn’t ( _they actually were fucking, which, hello!)_ but it did, because he was pretty sure there were things James was seeing in his eyes right now that…

“Everything okay?”

See, and that was it, right there, and it wasn’t fair! This wasn’t his first rodeo, not by a longshot, but it _was_ James’s first time being on this side of the equation, so between the two of them Tony _fucking_ Stark wasn’t the one who should be more than a little freaked out by what was happening.

“Yeah, yeah,” he swore, and slid his hand up the cool expanse of James’s bionic arm, cupped the back of his head, and pulled him across the last little divide between them so they could kiss again. It was wet, and sloppy—totally a mess of a kiss—because he was feeling frantic, and couldn’t seem to get his head around this, not even close.

But maybe he didn’t have to, maybe he could just let go of that last bit of control, just dive headfirst into this feeling of being completely laid bare. He could have his freakout later, and right now just, yeah, just slide his hands into James’s hair, swallow his little groan of pleasure at this, and if he rocked his hips, then… 

“Very okay, all kinds of okay, but you... _fuck_ , seriously, have to move or I might actually die.”

When James laughed, Tony felt it reverberate through his entire body, down to his toes even, and that was it. He just gave up. So what, this wasn’t going to be like any other time with any other person, and it shouldn’t be, it definitely shouldn’t be, and he didn’t need to think right now about why that was, and what it meant, and how much trouble he was in here.

James shifted them, never letting go of Tony’s hips as he repositioned the both of them so he could stand at the end of the bed, Tony’s legs wrapped around him. It was insane how effortless the movement was, like Tony weighed nothing at all, like this wasn’t the most overwhelming situation _ever_ , James buried deep inside of him, and still watching his face with an intensity that was as alarming as it was compelling.

Thankfully, James took mercy on him, and pretty much destroyed his ability to think coherently when he finally, _finally_ , began rocking himself in and out of Tony’s body. It was too slow at first, and panic began to flare up inside Tony’s chest again, because he really didn’t want to turn into a gibbering mess. He kind of wanted to live up to his reputation for once.

Maybe James saw all of this in his eyes, in the way he was biting into his lower lip, and trembling against the sheets, because the next thrust was deep, and purposeful, and made Tony cry out loudly, a sort of needy, pathetic noise that he felt embarrassed by right up until he saw the way it made James’s expression shift. His eyelids fluttered just a bit, and there was so much warmth there, and affection, and _ownership._ James was smiling this cocky little smile ( _he’d had the same smile on his face the first time they’d gotten naked together_ ), as he began more or less fucking Tony into the mattress.

Then it was just absolutely perfect, blindingly perfect, like when he became fully immersed in his work and the rest of the world fell away, just him and a universe to build, only it was _better_ , because his thoughts couldn’t go anywhere else; everything tilted on its axis and there was only James, and him, and the feeling of them joined together. He could become addicted to this.

It would probably come as a surprise to no one at all to learn that Tony’s mind was always going. It was one of the reasons drinking had been so appealing—it didn’t necessarily stop the neverending layers of thought, but it slowed them down, left them sort of colliding into each other in a way that prevented him from ever being able to reign them in, which in and of itself was a sad sort of liberation.

Really, he loved his mind, loved the way it worked, except for all of the times he _hated_ it, because while being a genius was fun, it also left him unable to connect with most people in some pretty basic ways. That was the opposite of liberating.

He’d always found sex to be a spectacular distraction, but if he was being honest, even some of the best sex he’d had he hadn’t been entirely _present_ for. Even with Pepper, and he’d _loved_ Pepper. She was beautiful, and strong, and perfectly wonderful, and it had made him hurt just looking at her, because he knew he’d never be good enough for her.

But even with Pepper, there had been a little disconnected bit of Tony’s mind that was always whirring away in the background, unable to just stop and be in the moment. It probably had something to do with the sense of impending doom he could never seem to shake when they were together, the one he was always overcompensating for—even in their happiest moments together, he was aware there would soon come a day when Pepper wouldn’t be able to compromise anymore, not if she was going to have the happy life she deserved, and so, yeah. There was that.

So, yes, he’d loved Pepper, but he’d almost gone out of his way to rush them along towards their breakup, because she deserved the sort of future he’d never wanted for himself, and the sooner she realized that, the sooner he could climb back inside a bottle, lose himself in the workshop, or put on the armor and get to work atoning for the legacy of pre-Afghanistan Tony Stark. And if atoning meant being a little too enthusiastic when it came to putting himself at risk, well, at least he wouldn’t have to have lengthy, teary conversations about it anymore.

There was all that, all the baggage he seemed to carry with him, but then there was _this_. There was James, who was also beautiful, but he wasn’t perfect in the way Pepper was. He was a completely different, _broken_ sort of amazing that Tony couldn’t seem to resist. James was the type of strong and wonderful that scared Tony for entirely different reasons, because Tony ( _didn’t want to_ ) couldn’t see that eventual end on the horizon when they were together. James didn’t need to compromise anything; he just accepted Tony the way he was, and somehow managed to look at Tony like _he_ was perfect. Insane, really, when you thought about it.

The first time James had kissed him, Tony had been over the moon, mostly focused on the fact that he finally knew what James’s mouth felt like—he’d been jerking off to the thought of that mouth for a while, and it was nice to confirm through first hand experience that it felt as good as it looked. 

It was the morning after, though, waking up next to him on the couch, his neck all stiff and his face jammed into James’s armpit, feeling an awful combination of jet lagged and hung over, that he’d really had the opportunity to think about what they had set it motion, and recognize how much he wanted it.

James was a light sleeper, and Tony wasn’t afforded any time to watch him doze, was pinned by those deep, beautiful eyes almost the instant he sat up. His head was pounding, and his mouth felt like it was full of sand, but he was almost stupidly, inappropriately happy. This feeling only grew when James smirked at him, shook his head in response to Tony’s goofy grin, and said, “You look like something the cat dragged in,” before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

Once he got a look at himself in the mirror, it was hard to disagree. He had creases on his face from James’s shirt, a wicked case of bed head, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, and really needed to neaten up his beard. If anything, it made him smile more, reinforced the decision he had come to only moments before.

“Hey JARVIS?”

“Yes, sir?”

“Thinking I might call it quits with the bottle.”

“An excellent idea, sir.”

“M’full of ‘em,” Tony murmured as he headed into the shower.

Of course, with the way his life went, it shouldn’t have been surprising that he’d hardly managed to finish brushing his teeth before they got the call to assemble, and then the next thing he knew he was flying into a building and getting yelled at by Captain America, all because of Clint’s big mouth.

The next time he’d seen James, they’d been in an alleyway, and he’d come fresh from a Serious Conversation ( _capital letters totally required_ ) with Steve, was still feeling shitty about it, because _of course_ Cap had noticed he was hung over, and naturally Tony wound up more or less yelling about his feelings for James, and his decision to go sober, and how important Steve’s friendship ( _approval_ ) was to him, all right in Steve’s face, like it was Steve’s fault.

“I’m not good enough for your best friend, is that it?” he’d asked, terrified of how Steve would answer, because if he said yes, then…

But Steve had just looked confused, then angry, and then a little sad, had grabbed him by the shoulder. “ _Tony_. No, of course not,” it was the earnestness, the _affectionate_ exasperation in the way he said Tony’s name that made his eyes tear up a bit. “Anyone with half a brain could see how good you’ve been for Bucky. I was just… Well, feeling a little left out, honestly.”

“Left out?”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know that?” Steve had fully deployed the puppy dog eyes, all sad and earnest.

“My S.H.I.E.L.D. assessment would beg to differ.”

“You… You know you’re my best friend too, right?” 

Tony felt too much like shit to admit that no, he hadn’t known that, not in the least. He’d sort of assumed the warm and fuzzies were more or less one sided. He knew Steve had accepted him, that he enjoyed working with him, and hanging out now, but best friend status? Nope. Not a clue.

“I don’t know how I would have made it through those early days if you hadn’t been around.”

“You would have managed,” Tony insisted.

“Maybe. But maybe not.”

When he’d eventually gotten the heads up from JARVIS that James had left the Tower, and wasn’t responding, Tony resigned himself to the fact that he’d yet to meet his Serious Conversation quota for the day. Hoped the evening wouldn’t end with him crying on Steve’s shoulder, the whole thing blowing up in his face before it even got started.

Instead, things had gone surprisingly well. An actual talk, involving feelings, and the realization that James was worried that _Tony_ might not want _him_ , which, yeah, insane. So they’d eaten, and talked, and it was kind of scary to realize he didn’t want to sabotage things this time around, didn’t want to push James away, or protect him from the fallout of spending prolonged periods of time in close proximity with Tony Stark. He just wanted to protect him.

He’d probably already been a bit head over heels before they’d actually become a couple, and the hours, and days, and weeks, they spent together after making it official had been the happiest he could ever recall being. So, really, it was sort of ridiculous that it wasn’t until today—with James’s eyes drinking him in, and his cock reshaping Tony’s universe one thrust at a time—that he finally understood how very much batshit crazy in love with this man he was.

James was hot everywhere, except the arm, which was cool, and totally hadn’t stopped being a turn on if Tony was being honest with himself. He splayed his bionic hand over the arc reactor in order to pin Tony down against the bed, and there should have been panic over that move ( _he hated when anyone touched it, even Pepper, even Steve_ ), but there wasn’t, because James only _ever_ touched the reactor with _that_ hand, and somehow that made it okay, every single time.

“Look at you,” James all but growled. He slid his hand down Tony’s chest, caressed the trembling muscles in Tony’s stomach. “Is it bad that I want to cover you with marks?”

“No, that’s, uh, good,” Tony moaned, grinning wildly up at James. “S’great. Mark away, I’m all yours.”

The look on James’s face at that was something to behold, made Tony’s cock twitch against his stomach, and his heart hammer wildly. He was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one batshit crazy in love, here, and wasn’t that just one for the record books?

James slowed the pace down for a just a moment, just long enough to suck and bite greedily at the curve of Tony’s shoulder, until he was satisfied that the mark would last. Then they were kissing again, loud and sloppy as they each tried to manage their chaotic breathing.

Tony moved his legs, draping them over James’s broad shoulders, soft noises of pleasure escaping in time with each thrust of James’s cock. If his eyes began to drift closed, James would move his hands from Tony’s hips in order to cradle his face, force him to open his eyes again, bend Tony’s knees up by his ears so he could lean over enough to kiss him.

It was strange how James could look so intense, while simultaneously appearing to be the most relaxed Tony had ever seen him, cheeky grin never leaving his face for long. Tony’s Russian was apparently not up to snuff ( _note to self, learn to talk dirty in Russian_ ), because a lot of what was coming out of James’s mouth at the moment was going right over his head.

He had no idea how long they’d been at it, only that his balls felt heavy, and every last nerve ending seemed to be screaming at him to touch his own dick already. James beat him to it ( _no pun intended_ ), shifting Tony’s legs again so he had more room to work, holding him down, his cool, metalic hand feeling like a brand, while the other wrapped around Tony’s cock, began pumping enthusiastically.

“I wanna see you come,” James managed, his voice strained, and his eyes blazing.

“Yes, sir.”

Tony didn’t need to be told twice, happily wrapped both hands around his own cock and got to work, while James grabbed him by the hips and rode him hard, lifting Tony’s ass ever so slightly off the mattress. Tony started babbling, didn’t have a clue what about, because James had obviously paid attention during the times Tony had fucked him, and as a result the head of his cock was absolutely nailing Tony’s prostate on each thrust.

James was watching intensely, attention divided between Tony’s busy hands and his face, and although he greedily observed the first stuttering spurts of Tony’s orgasm, groaning loudly at the feeling of Tony clenching down on him as he covered himself with come, he mostly maintained dizzying eye contact throughout.

Tony was sure whatever he was saying was embarrassingly stupid ( _c’mon, James, wanna walk funny tomorrow, fuck, come for me, yeah, you feel so fucking good_ ) as he reached up to frame James’s face with his hands, unwilling ( _unable_ ) to look away, and so he saw it all right there ( _do you have any idea how much I love you? god, I hope so, James, because I can’t go back to not having you_ ) in James’s eyes when it happened, saw the dam break, even as James’s hips lost their rhythm, jerking wildly into Tony as he came, and came, with a shout of, “ _Antoshka_.”

James sort of collapsed on top of him after that, taking a moment to collect himself before pulling out, and flopping onto his back beside Tony. The room was full of the sound of their heavy breathing, James naturally recovering much sooner, while Tony yawned against his will, shivering a bit now that he was no longer up close and personal with James’s body heat.

Before he could drift into unconsciousness, James chuckled, and Tony arched an eyebrow, turning to glare at him. He opened his mouth to complain, but then James held his hand up for a high five, and soon they were both laughing.

“So that happened,” Tony managed eventually, feeling much more content now that James had manhandled him up to the head of the bed, dragging them both under the covers.

He didn’t get to say anything else, because James was kissing him again, slowly, deeply, then pulled away and said, “Do _you,_ Tony? Do you have any idea?” and Tony shivered in spite of how warm he was, his heart feeling like it’d actually stopped in his chest, because James looked _wrecked_.

“Hey, what’s…”

But he was cut off again, as James began talking, his words coming fast, his eyes bright, and vulnerable. “You made me feel _human_ again, do you have any idea… That should have been _impossible_ , Antoshka, but you did it before I even knew what was happening. I don’t know how you did that.”

In a moment of clarity, Tony realized he’d managed to be incredibly cliche, and had confessed his feelings for James at some point during all the sex-babble, and that James was in the process of reciprocating.

“It’s okay,” Tony swore, brushing James’s hair back from his forehead. “Of course I know, I’m a genius, remember?”

“Punk,” James laughed, the tears in his eyes finally spilling over when he did so, his mouth trembling as he smiled. “I’m trying to tell you I love you over here.”

“Yeah, well, I love you, too,” Tony answered, giving James a playful shove. “And of course you love me, I’m very lovable.”

James was still smiling, which was good, because it meant Tony’s heart could beat normally again, and that he could just stroke the side of James’s face, and try not to freak out over the amount of gratitude he could see in the other man’s eyes. Tony was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t suck at relationships _at all_ , maybe he’d just been in the wrong ones up until now.

“Humble, too.”

“Very humble,” Tony agreed. “which is good, considering how staggeringly attractive I am. It’d be a shame if that went to my head.”

“No wonder I love you.”

“My point exactly.” He tried, and failed, to suppress another yawn, ignoring the quiet, amused sound James made beside him. “JARVIS, don’t let me sleep past… uh, what time is it, anyway?”

“Two thirty six p.m., sir.”

“Wait, it’s daytime?” Tony sat up, looking at the clock beside the bed, as if JARVIS could possibly have been mistaken about something as simple as the time. “Is it still Wednesday?”

“It was Wednesday when you started on Clint’s,” James trailed off, then said, “JARVIS, a little help?”

“I believe sir referred to it as the _My Little Pwn Thee©_ Gaming System of Ultimate Domination,” JARVIS helpfully provided, his tone making it clear that Tony had been operating on far too much caffeine, and far too little sleep when coming up with the name.

“Right. _That_. It was Thursday when I decided to just throw you over my shoulder, and carry you up here so I could fuck you stupid.”

Tony’s eyes widened at this. “Huh. Did I finish it?”

“Clearly my plan worked.”

“You did indeed complete your project sir. Congratulations.”

“Right, well… good.” Tony settled back down against the pillows. “What do you think, is the name marketable?” He didn’t wait for James to answer, just muttered, “Pepper usually hates the names I come up with for the awesome shit I invent.”

With the bionic hand, James tapped three times against the arc reactor before snuggling closer. “Stop thinking and go to sleep.”

“Yeah, okay, I can do that.”

And he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Sure, I'm excited to finally get to write some smutty bedroom fun times between these two, but we all know it's really about Clint finally getting his new gaming system! Am I right?


End file.
